I Swear
by Lady Kick Your Butt
Summary: A Big Hero 6 Diner AU. Gogo didn't know much what to expect when she walked into the classy old school diner, but it definitely wasn't this. Tomadashi.


"Farewell, Gogo. A very pleasant evening to you!" Fred waved enthusiastically, in a broad sweeping gesture. He had exchanged his tipsy white chef's hat for his more typical green beanie. The hat slouched on his lightish long brown hair, much like the rest of his apparel that hung loosely on his spindly frame.

Leiko Tomago, "Gogo", turned from the seat she had just taken on her bike, and gave her coworker her customary two-fingered salute. She had given up protesting her nickname after the twenty-second time Fred had called her it.

"It suits you." Fred had pointed out, ignoring her twenty-second glare, as he expertly tossed pizza dough.

Fred had hit upon the nickname after Gogo's first day as a pizza deliverer. She had made an "epic" run "to be sung of in the sagas", in which she delivered thirty different pizzas, (Two of which were brought all the way to Fletcherville), in just fifteen minutes. Apparently the record before that was thirty-four minutes.

Gogo didn't really mind her nickname. In fact she was secretly fond of it. At least it wasn't something stupid like Rocket or the horrible McSpeedy she had once been called by a dirtbag. Why he had only called her that once is a long story that ended with two therapists, an anger-control one for Gogo, (Even though she hadn't been angry, just annoyed.), and not an anger-control one for the Idiot.

Gogo pulled on her helmet, revved her bike to life, and swooped out of the parking lot. She and her bike danced through the bustling traffic that congregated on San Fransokyo's hilly roads.

The city's streets could be a nightmare to navigate for a novice. It was like a combination of the heavy traffic of Japan, mixed with the horrible rolling terrain of Old San Fransisco.

Gogo, however, was anything but a novice, and she swept gracefully through the sea of her fellow road-sharers. If she was dancing, then the grumble of slow engines, the honk of cars, and the frustrated yells of road-raged drivers was the music following in her wake. The flashing neon that vomited forth from the many businesses and tourist attractions was her spotlight, and her audience was the furious, fist-shaking people holed up in traffic jams.

Gogo was hungry, smelling the tantalizing pizzas you had to deliver does that to you. But she wasn't in the mood for having pizza for both lunch and supper. Plus, there was this tiny little diner she drove past every day, to and from work, and she had noticed that a whole pack of bikers flocked there every Thursday night. Lastly, the fact that she was in dire need of a burger sold her, and she was determined to finally try the place out.

Cass' Diner, the old sign read, the place's lighting looked yellow and dim compared to the modern and sleek, bright white of its competitor's. The diner looked slightly out of place squished between a tall apartment and the corner of two frantically busy streets. It was classy though, something the world didn't really recognize anymore.

As Gogo parked her bike in the diner's tiny lot, she took a minute to appraise the litter of other bikes. There were a few beauties parked there. Not that any of them held a candle to her's. She pulled off her helmet, shaking out her hair, and then strode her way across the lot.

Gogo reached the diner in a matter of seconds, her legs moving quickly to make up for their short size. Like most people, Gogo barely glanced at the clutter of signs announcing specials that were taped to the door, but she did a double take, hand on the door handle. One sign just barely caught her eye.

The sign was old, taped in the dead center of the door. It was definitely older than the other signs, what with its torn and faded appearance and all. The writing was in black and red crayon, the red used for emphasis. It was scrawled in a young child's messy hand, very different to its more professional, colorful, and fancily written companions.

"WARNING!" It read, "Do not sware beyond this point! Their are consiquences."

And then in smaller lettering under that notice, it read darkly:

"You have been WARNED."

Gogo was amused and slightly curious as to the joke behind the notice, but she shrugged it off and entered the diner with a jangle of the bell above the door. Her entrance heralded the gazes of the gang of bikers in there. The hulking mass of beards, tattoos, bandanas, and bulging biceps, looked away from her disinterestedly after half a second. Gogo knew why. They had observed her black leather jacket, her apathetic resting face, and the splash of purple that ran down the side of her slightly choppy looking haircut. She looked like a little punk-ass rebel, and the pink bubble of gum she blew out uncaringly, only furthered that impression.

Ignoring the other customers back, Gogo took in her surroundings with her sharp roaming eyes. The diner's interior was pretty old-fashioned, but in a nostalgic good kind of Old America way. It felt like a Norman Rockwell, kind of place, minus the bikers. Above her wooden fans whirred lazily on the low ceiling. The tables were draped in red and white checkered design that matched the upholstery of the chair cushions, the bar stool's seats, and the booth benches. The music was darn old too, tracing back to the old decades.

There was a sudden clatter at the bar-like counter, and eyes traveled to the person behind it, half-expecting it to be an old man with snowy balding hair, an old tank top, a white apron, and one of those old soda jerk hats you saw in classic black and white films. Perhaps he'd have s name tag that read Cass too.

He wasn't old. And he definitely didn't look like a Cass. The server was half-Asian, like her, but where as she was abnormally short, he was bizarrely tall. He was wearing a white apron, but no tank top. And the hat on his head was a baseball cap, that his sport's opinions were native to the city. To top it all the dark haired, dark-eyed boy had a very very giant smile on his face, that rivaled his height in size.

"Love at first sight. I know this can't be happening. No, not to someone like me." Played an old song.

Gogo groaned internally. She hated friendly people, and this was definitely a friendly person. He would chatter incessantly, and ask her pointless questions that were none of his business. Gogo despised pointless questions and incessant chatter. She refused to answer the boy's smile as she trudged over to the counter.

* * *

Tadashi Hamada let out a huge yawn, and idly turned the page of the mechanics magazine he was reading. It made him laugh. The designs were childishly simple. He flipped boredly through it, willing eight o'clock to come faster. Things always got interesting with the bikers, and their fierce competition for the title.

Tadashi glanced at the clock. It was looking down from its perch, laughing at him, because it was only 7:36. Tadashi huffed at the clock in disappointment, and using styrofoam take-out cups, he began to build a pyramid.

Tadashi had stacked up the cups on level with his eyes, when a beam from a motorcycle headlight swept through the window and across the room. Quick as a wink, the light turned off. Tadashi went back to stacking his cups. It was probably another redneck biker, Fang perhaps. He was always late to join the gang, if he decided to show up at all.

Tadashi didn't look up again, until the door's tinny bell let out a tinkle, and when he did, he double-taked so fast that he almost snapped his neck, cup frozen in hand.

It was definitely, absolutely, decidedly, and many other synonyms of the same definition, not Fang. First off there was no handle bar mustache, no tattoo of an eagle, and no large man. It was a girl.

Normally, Tadashi was bothered by her type of people. They were the kind of kids who vandalized whatever was most handy and thought it was hilarious. They were often full of themselves, rebellious, thought they knew better than you.

But something caught in Tadashi's throat as he eyed her. She just blew off the large menacing men, with a blow of a bubble. It wasn't arrogance, it was calm acceptance. If they left her alone, she'd leave them alone. If they didn't leave her alone, they'd be sorry. It was just a fact. She wasn't scared of them, but she wasn't disrespectful, or thought they were below her. She looked at them as if she were their equal. Tadashi was suddenly lost.

Tadashi's hand came down in his distraction, and promptly knocked down the stack of cups with a clatter. Tadashi fumbled with the falling cups briefly, but quickly leaned his arm on the counter nonchalantly, as the girl turned. He smiled to cover up his embarrassment; though he was pretty sure he looked very sheepish and stupid. The blood rushed to his ears. Everything was buzzing. He knew without a doubt that his ears had to be flushed. Bright red. Probably the brightest hue know to man.

Oddly, it looked like the girl cringed ever so slightly. Tadashi was probably over-analyzing, because she swiftly strode up to the counter, with no hesitation whatsoever.

"Hello." Tadashi beamed in his friendliest smile, "How are you?"

"Great." The purple streaked biker didn't sound great, just annoyed, "You?"

"I-I'm gr- good. I'm good." Tadashi stumbled, "How can I help you?"

Tadashi yelled at himself internally. He probably sounded like a moron.

"I'll have a cheeseburger, done medium. With a root beer, please." The girl said glancing at the menu on the counter.

Absent-mindedly, Tadashi went for his notebook to take down the order, and then mentally scolded himself. Who would need to write down that simple order? He shoved his notebook in his apron pocket, and then felt like an idiot. He should have just stuck to the notebook, he probably looked ten times as stupid taking the book out and then putting it back.

"Um..french fries or salad?" Tadashi asked, avoiding her eyes.

"French fries."

"Okay, I'll be right back with your-" Tadashi froze. He had been cringing so much inside, that he had forgotten the order.

"Cheeseburger." The girl supplied, eyeing him curiously, " With fries and-"

"Root beer." Tadashi chimed with her, waving a finger in humiliated remembrance.

"Right. I'll be right back." Tadashi rushed for the kitchen. And tripped over the spilled cups. He just barely caught himself before he fell on his face.

* * *

Gogo raised an eyebrow as her server almost fell on his face.

"Idiot." She heard him hiss at himself under his breath. She snorted silently at that.

"Tadashi", his name tag had read. He had been in a huge hurry to escape her presence; so, he had smartly gathered that she didn't want to bothered by small talk. That or he was a bit intimated. Gogo found that she tended to have that effect on some people.

Gogo looked to her left along the counter. Further down a jar rested on the counter top. At first she assumed it was a tip jar, and she felt sorry for Tadashi. There was only a few quarters in it, apparently people were crap tippers here. Then she read the label.

"Swear jar" the paper read in neat letters. Then underneath on a separate piece of paper, it read:

"Please, do not swear in here. We try to keep this place family friendly."

Suddenly, the sign on the door made a whole lot more sense, and Gogo didn't know why, but the quaint jar was oddly amusing to her. That is to say that her apathetic look softened two notches.

Tadashi was making a stir in the kitchen, rattling metal appliances together. A glance from Gogo through the window on the kitchen door, showed the absorbed server staring intently down at the grill, spatula in hand.

Gogo swung her feet in boredom, they dangled at least a foot above rest bar, and they clattered slightly against the counter. She read the entirety of the menu. She memorized each biker's face, and eve found out some of their names by listening. Gogo wasn't good with patience. She glanced repeatedly between the kitchen and the clock.

At last, after precisely eight minutes and twenty-two seconds had passed, Gogo saw Tadashi turn to the door, a plate and glass in hand.

Tadashi walked more carefully this time, and he set Gogo's plate and glass before her with caution.

"There you go." Tadashi smiled lopsidedly, "Enjoy."

Gogo decided that the diner worker's slightly long chin, combined with his smile, kind of reminded her of Tigger, but she voiced her thanks instead of her observations.

Tadashi was distracted by two of the bikers coming over for refills on their drinks, and Gogo was left to eat her meal in peace, a fact she relished...for six whole minutes, before Tadashi returned after helping the customers.

"Everything good?" He asked.

Gogo gave a monosyllabic mumble, and Tadashi opened his mouth to say something, only to close it again.

The burger was good, easily the best Gogo had ever tasted, but it was rather marred by Tadashi's presence. He stood off down the counter on Goho's left, avoiding eye contact nervously and drumming his fingers. He was resolutely set on not looking at her, a fact that made her uncomfortable and irritated.

"Want a refill?" Tadashi asked eagerly as Gogo barely finished her drink.

"Thanks." She handed him her glass.

"You know, we make it ourselves." Tadashi informed her over his shoulder. He was in and out of the kitchen in seconds. Gogo took the drink from him, and Tadashi went back to his previous position at the counter, long fingers tapping.

* * *

Tadashi couldn't think of what to do or say. A first for him. The biker chick spoke barely a word. She was pretty abrupt, and Tadashi was trying his hardest not to do anything stupid in front of her. This resulted in him looking anywhere but her. He knew that he would zone off staring, if his eyes landed on her. Now he wished even more desparately that eight o' clock would come. His eyes were getting glassy from eyeing the clock so hard.

The clock was smug in his anguish, smirking little- oh 7:55, that was close enough.

Tadashi jerked forward and reached under the counter. The bikers in the corner began taking off their jackets, making jokes, and rolling their shoulders. They let out a whoop as Tadashi emerged behind the counter with a large wooden rectangle box.

Tadashi caught the purple striped girl's eye. She had finished eating, and was watching the goings on with an interested air.

"Oh, it's a Thursday night special we do." Tadashi explained, "A game of darts. Whoever wins, gets their meal free."

She looked intrigued, so Tadashi plunged forward.

"Do you want to play?"

"They'll let me?" The small Asian nodded towards the group of beefy men.

"Hey, Guys. Is it alright if she plays?" Tadashi called over, gesturing towards the petite young woman.

The men looked at the girl, then they all looked at each other. They shrugged and nodded in acceptance to Tadashi.

Tadashi turned back to the short biker with a grin.

"Yup." He told her.

"Sure." She pulled off her short leather jacket, and adjusted the purple and white striped band around her wrist. She was wearing a simple white t-shirt. Just the way the girl held herself, like she was holding herself back, she could pounce any moment, but was still nonchalant and relaxed. Her bearing screamed confidence in her own abilities.

Tadashi had to rip his eyes away from her, she was so interesting and mystifying. Hurriedly he began to hand around the darts.

"So it's a version called Killer." He told her, "It's great for-"

"-Large groups." Gogo nodded cutting him off, "I know the rules."

Everybody in the room turned to look at Gogo in surprise, while she only examined the dartboard with narrowed eyes, before popping a new piece of gum in her mouth.

"You know the rules?" Honk, one of the larger men, asked slowly.

"Yeah." Gogo shrugged.

"Hamada." Jenkins had had enough. So the girl knew how to play? Big deal.

"Move on." He said irritably impatient.

Tadashi snapped out of his gawk, flushing red.

"Yeah..um...right, right. Got it...um." He set down the wooden case and picked up a score pad, "So... Art, Max, Jenkins, Daft, Honk, Steve, Tango, and...uh. I never really got your.."

"Gogo."

Tadashi flickered a crooked smile at her.

"And Gogo." He wrote neatly, "Okay, then-"

"Ladies first?" Art gestured to Gogo questioningly.

"No." Gogo smacked a bubble, "After all of you."

Art shrugged, and Jenkins whispered to Daft that he was pretty sure Gogo hadn't played before, and was almost certain she was only going last to see how the game was played. Tadashi saw Gogo roll her eyes. He wasn't sure what to expect from the petite girl, but she seemed pretty confident..

* * *

Everyone in the room, watched tensely as Gogo stopped at the line, if she hit Jenkins' three point section he'd be out, and she would win the whole game. Calmly, Gogo lifted her dart and with a dexterous flick of the wrist she threw the dart and hit Jenkins' three point section with a 'thunk'. Everyone was silent at first, then Tadashi let out a cheer and all the bikers followed suit, excepting Gogo and Jenkins. Jenkins furiously kicked over a chair.

"Hey!" Tadashi protested.

"Oh, woman up." Gogo rolled her eyes at the buff biker. Tadashi let out a snort of amused surprise at her remark, and Gogo eyed him curiously.

"You shut the *%#$ up!" Jenkins yelled angrily at her. Everyone in the room excluding Gogo and Jenkins again, let out a loud horrified gasp. Even Jenkins seemed mortified with himself. Confused, Gogo watched as Max and Honk each grabbed one of Jenkins arms, and with everyone else in pursuit, they dragged the offensive man to the counter and forced him to drop ten dollars into the swear jar that Tadashi held out. Gogo almost burst out laughing in disbelief; instead, she her grin as Jenkins walked back and apologized for his "inexcusable" behavior.

Once he finished, Jenkins paid for his meal and snuck out while the other bikers in his gang crowded around Gogo and congratulate her. After, Gogo had entangled herself from the hairy men she went over to Tadashi who was unsubtley watching her as he put the darts away.

"Hey, that's a really good aim you have." Tadashi straightened and grinned at Gogo. Gogo shrugged dismissively.

"Well you won; so..your meals free." Tadashi rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, for about the tenth time that night.

"Thanks." Gogo held out her had to him, "The meal was great."

Tadashi's eyes crinkled, giving warning to his smile before it had fully reached his face. He shook her hand earnestly.

"Thank you!"

Gogo pulled away with a shrug and made her way to the door.

"Bye..Gogo." Tadashi called after her.

"Later." Gogo gave him salute from the door, and a wink she was outside.

Gogo drove all the way home in silence, went inside, and changed into pajamas. It wasn't until she was brushing her teeth, Gogo finally gave in and let out a laugh.


End file.
